The Eye Of the Storm: B&H Outtakes
by WhoNatural
Summary: A collection of out-takes from Butterflies and Hurricanes, dealing with scenes which weren't integral to the story, but fun to write nonetheless. Will be updated as the main story progresses, to coincide with certain chapters.
1. I Like You So Much Better When You're

_Disclaimer:_ _All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise._ _No copyright infringement is intended_

**A/N**:** Suggested Listening: The Moment That It Stops by The Narrative, I Like You So Much Better When You're Naked by Ida Maria, Self Esteem by The Offspring, All Alright by Fun**

**This out-take takes place over the course of Chapters 20-23 of Butterflies and Hurricanes, and is for everyone wondering what _exactly_ has been going on with Leah and Paul. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Out-Take One: I Like You So Much Better When You're Naked**

"Could you be real, just for a second?"

"I _am_ being real... I'm serious, you shouldn't have to apologise for anything."

The look he was giving me was genuine, but I couldn't figure out the catch behind the words. Who they were coming from was the biggest clue of all. I narrowed my eyes at him, shaking my head and spinning around to continue on my path.

"Cut the bullshit, Paul. It's-" I shuddered dramatically, "...unsettling."

"It's not bullshit - I'm agreeing with you. Fuck, are you so used to fighting that you don't even know when someone's on your side?" His footsteps continued in my wake, and I almost crashed into his chest when I turned once again to study him. He was looking down at me – one of the few guys in the whole state who still could - with something that looked akin to earnest. "_I'm _on your side."

The eye-roll couldn't be helped. Really. He was driving me nuts. "You know, this sympathetic crap is wearing thin. It's not like I don't _know_ how much of a bitch I am, Paul." I examined the stubs which used to be my fingernails before looking back at him. "In case you haven't noticed, I kind of revel in it. You of all people should be able to relate."

"Of course I can. Aren't you listening?" he said, giving me a look of frustration that probably matched my own.

"You're on my side," I said evenly, not quite conveying the magnitude of my disbelief through my tone. Something around here stank, and it definitely wasn't me. He nodded, his face emotionless as he mirrored my folded arms. "Against Sam – against _them?_"

He sighed. "Look, everyone around here knows what a shit deal you got... I'm not going to start judging you for lashing out at them." His lips quirked up on one side in a smirk. "Besides, you do it in style."

A smug sneer stretched across my mouth, and I looked past his shoulder, back in the direction we came. "Girl's gotta get her hits in while it still hurts," I mused.

Paul's chest shook in a mischievous chuckle, his hand moving to wipe the smile right down his chin. He shook his head. "I can't believe you said that to him."

I threw up my shoulders, turning on my heel again. "It's the truth. Mostly."

"You really _faked it_ for the first six months you guys were doing it?" He fell into step beside me, watching my reactions with more interest than was probably warranted.

Cocking a brow, I didn't meet his gaze, training it on the trail through the trees I was headed for. There was no way I was answering that one; my life was enough of a soap opera as it was, and it wasn't my fault Sam and Emily felt the need to make their little announcement with an audience. It wasn't my fault I'd given Emily some sage bedroom advice for the newly-wed right in front of Paul, Jared and Kim.

Alright, so it was unnecessary, but _fuck_ if it wasn't fun.

"Aw, come on... you can't plead the fifth now. Spill."

"Why?" I barked. He was really starting to grate on my thin patience. "Worried Sam's not the only one privy to my Oscar-worthy performances?" I was walking backwards now. Dude didn't seem to take the hint that I didn't have time for a chit-chat. I smiled smugly off into the trees. "A lady wouldn't divulge that. Not without ulterior motive. Maybe I'll tell you when there's something I actually need from you, Lahote."

Paul's trademark bravado was back, and he wrinkled his brow. "Darling, if there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that _nobody's _that good an actress." His steps halted, and I found mine doing the same. He seemed closer now than he had been a minute ago. "And there's no way you'd need to fake _anything_ with me."

I stood for a second, for some reason entranced by _that look _he was giving me, and how he'd seemed to step so far into my personal space that his breath was on my cheeks. So _this_ is what it was all about.

"Looking for a repeat performance, huh?" I said, finding my voice again. I really fucking hated knowing that he could tell I wasn't totally unaffected. The temperature was rising, and I think most of it was to do with the searing heat in my blood. The one night we'd explored... _that.. _ was one for the books, and yeah, I'd thought about it again. And again. None of the breakable losers I'd spent my time with since had quite held up – but there was no way I was going to let _him _know that.

Walking a finger up his chest, I followed my hand with my gaze, satisfied with the catch of his breath and the nervous wetting of his lips. I just needed to buy time, get my head straight.

"I'm game if you are."

His eyes were blazing as they settled on my lips with the same want I'd seen before, but I wasn't falling for this shit. It was enough to put _one _notch on Paul Lahote's bedpost, never mind carve a second. My hand came to rest on his cheek, and I pushed.

"Not in this lifetime, hombre."

He took a deep breath, needing a moment to gather his bearings as I stormed off. I seemed to be doing a lot of that these days.

"I can wait," he called after me, and I shook my head, continuing onwards. "Just... in the mean time? Remember who's got your back."

I turned with a frown, feeling that _weirdness_ taking over again. "What's your game, Paul?"

He held his hands out innocently. "Just reminding you, you've got a friend. I'm here."

I shook my head, turning yet again. At this rate, I wouldn't make it home by dark. "This is fucked. "

"Leah, do yourself a favour, and learn not to push _everyone_ away." I stiffened, feeling like those words weren't quite his own.

"I'll try to remember that, Dr. Phil. What, you've been reading one of those self-help books again?" That would have been a stretch; Paul hadn't read anything since dropping out of High School that didn't have at least one exposed nipple. In fact, the words sounded like they'd come from a different source. I steeled my jaw, taking a step forward as it slowly dawned on me. I was going to get to the bottom of this. I needed to go see Bella.

* * *

Shuffling my feet, I knocked again, wondering what the hell the hold-up was. Paul could hear as well as I did, even over the blaring television and the crackle of beer cans I picked out from the living room. It was common knowledge how Paul's old man had dealt with his mom's death, so there's wasn't much mystery surrounding wh was the cause of all the noise. He _really_ needed to get the fuck out here - if he kept me standing here much longer, this terrible lapse in judgement might have worn off.

After a third knock, a resounding "PAUL! GET THE FUCKING DOOR!" boomed over the chaos, and the slamming of an interior door cut off the noise to an extent. It was replaced by a screech of guitars and angry vocals, before a second slam rang out, and stomping footsteps came in my direction. The front door swinging open to reveal him looking shocked, worn out, and pretty fucking out-of-character.

"What are you doing here?" he said, automatically pulling the door tight to his shoulder, so that all I could see was the expanse of his chest clothed in the tattered, grey, wife-beater. I kept my eyes trained there, because I had no desire to get caught staring at those black boxer-briefs, and have to live with the jibes. The dude was built like a fucking underwear model, but it was no use letting him know _I_ knew that.

"I talked to Bella," I said simply, jutting my chin out while I figured out what the hell to do with my hands.

He shifted his weight on the door frame and stared. Why did he always have to stare? "And?"

"And she told me about your little reconnaissance mission. Thought I wouldn't figure it out, huh?"

That self-satisfied look was back, and he picked at the splintered wood, training his eyes on the gesture. "Not really, but what did I have to lose?"

"I could have come here to cut your balls off."

His eyes slithered in a wide ark towards my face. "But you didn't."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm still standing here with a full package." His eyebrows rose as he flickered his gaze down towards his own crotch. _Well, he had me there_. "So, you wanna talk?"

I shook my head, wondering for the tenth time in as many minutes what the hell I was doing, how I'd let Bella Swan talk me into hearing this asshole out, but something made me stay. I didn't know if it was he promise of perfection under the threadbare shirt, or the infinite heat in his eyes as he looked - I mean _really looked -_ at me instead of avoiding my gaze like an intimidated bunny. I leaned a weary arm on the door frame and grimaced.

"Not really, but is there any way of avoiding it?"

He shrugged. "Not if we're going to be grown-ups about this."

I scoffed, taking a step back. He was doing that personal space thing again. "Wow, Paul Lahote wants to be the grown up," I teased.

"I wanna do grown-up _stuff,"_ he smirked, "With you. Seems we should at least be able to _talk_ like adults." I felt like he was drinking my whole being in with the way his eyes raked over my body. I could have been naked and felt the same. For some fucking insane reason, that didn't really scare me like it ought to.

I didn't have a snappy comeback at the ready, so I just chewed on my lip. Maybe I'd been spending too much time around Swan. "Put some pants on, then."

"Make you uncomfortable, do I?" he asked, already stepping backwards into the house.

I shook my head. "No, but grown-ups usually tend to wear pants. It's kind of expected. Y'know, _manners _and all."

He grinned devilishly at me, took an exaggerated bow, and winked. "Whatever you say, m'lady."

* * *

The tree was pressing into my back, and I could feel the scratches left by the bark already beginning to heal. Turning my head to the side, I ripped my lips away from his, panting as I tried to clear the fog that had nothing to do with the late summer night, or the heat coming off _two _of our kind in uh.. _this_ kind of position.

He reattached his lips at my clavicle, sucking and nipping and running his tongue over tender flesh in time with each slow, lazy thrust. "This still isn't talking, Lee," he mumbled into my skin, the only signs of exertion coming from the billowing breaths running over my exposed skin.

I dug my fingers into his back. Dude was getting distracted. I didn't need that shit right now, not when release was so close. I really fucking missed being with someone who could keep up, not pass out halfway through and call it a victory for getting me naked in the first place.

The next thrust was forceful, and I cried out in a mixture of surprise and pleasure, tightening my grip on his waist with my legs. My eyes widened to take in the image of his gaze melded to mine, each following jerk of his hips designed to hold my attention, not to let this descend into the raw, thoughtless sex it had been the last two times we attempted this.

The first night we'd left Paul's house, drove to the beach to talk, and I'd evaded any semblance of real conversation. The only way I could stop him from storming off was having him press me against the driver's side of my car and fuck me until we almost shattered the windows.

The second attempt was slightly better. We'd finally - begrudgingly- admitted our attraction to one another before seemingly having to _prove _such attraction, when he ripped my panties off and laid me on the dusty ground by the cliff-tops.

So this was number three, and the anticipation of what was going to happen, plus the memories of what we'd done the last two times meant I was giving off scents I have zero control over. And Paul? Well, he was never one to leave a lady in need. What a gentleman.

"We need to talk about this," he grunted, all gravel-toned and intense and_ he'd stopped fucking moving_. I was _so close _and he just stops to gossip?

"Paul!" I ground out through a grimace. "Not the time." I attempted to move my hips, encouraging him to just do _something _to relieve the burning ache that was settling in my lower stomach, but he stood rigid and unyielding. I started to wonder how I'd seen his strength as an attractive attribute. If he was human, I'd have won by now.

His lips were on my neck again, leaving those marks I knew would have bruised before my body changed and stopped being breakable, at least in the ways anyone could see. Maybe _my _strength was what made him hot. I looked down at the inky darkness of his hair, contemplating yanking a few strands free, just to see what happened, but... huh...whatever he was doing, felt pretty damn good.

"Not getting caught up in this again," he said absently, finally giving in to the torture and rolling his hips so that the crown of my head made harsh contact with the tree. "If we can't talk without doing this, then we'll talk _during._"

The noise of protest died on my gaping lips as the latest shudders of pleasure exploded within me. He was right, but I didn't want to let him win. The bastard was putting up a hell of a fight, though.

"Fine," I huffed breathlessly, arching my back so I had the advantage of height. "You wanna talk, we'll talk." I searched my mind for _anything _that wasn't the conversation he had been alluding to. "Have you seen Bella lately? She's gone off the radar."

His smirk was nothing short of infuriating, and he shook his head. "You know that's not what I meant," he warned, "But if you wanna properly include Swan in our quality time, I won't be one to object."

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, like I hadn't expected _that_ response. "Hey, we're talking, aren't we."

"Not about what we _should _be talking about," he said in reprimand, pulling my arm back over his shoulder and securing it, watching proudly as my breasts rose and fell with frustrated breaths.

"Can't you just shut the fuck up and enjoy it?" I clenched my inner muscles sharply, watching with satisfaction as his eyes rolled back in his head, and for a long moment, I was pretty sure he forgot his own name. After the reflexive thrust which made a few late-summer leaves rain down around us, he seemed to get his bearings back, and pressed his cheek against mine. His breath was hot on my ear, and the sheer _intimacy _of it all left me speechless.

"Do you want me?" he asked, no hint of a tease, no inference that it was an innuendo. Genuine Paul was back, and I didn't know what the fuck to do about it. So I gave in, and I was honest. Squeezing my eyes shut, I rearranged my grasp on his shoulder gulping. I nodded. My reward was another mind-blowing stroke, reaching so deep within me, it was _my _turn to forget who the fuck Leah Clearwater was.

"But just like this." His tone was resigned, but he didn't falter in bringing me closer to the edge. I nodded again, despite the urge to talk. He grunted in reply, moving me further up in his arms to gain access to my exposed nipple. "I can live with that, for now."

I whimpered as his mouth latched on, shaking my head as a response. A desperate hum sounded in my throat as I clawed the ability to talk back from the abyss. "No – not," I sighed, wetting my lips against the panting of my breath. "It's _only _gonna be like this."

He lifted his head and looked at me for an endless second, searching my eyes for something I was sure he wouldn't find. I felt bad about it, sure, but I was going to be honest about this. There wasn't anything in me left to give, and if he wanted some beautiful love story, he was going to have to look elsewhere.

"Paul this is all there is. There isn't going to be anything more between us... I mean, you get that, don't you? There's nothing left here for you." I spoke as cnadidly as I could without that rouling feeling of sickness making its appearance. I wasn't the type to wear my heart on my sleeve, and I wasn't the type to go pouring my feelings out to anyone who would listen, but he needed to hear it. I wasn't looking for sympathy. He just seemed to have certain expectations I was in no position to fulfil. I wasn't about to go breaking someone else's heart because I was too full of _nothing _to give them fair warning.

Could you put all that into words when someone was willing to take that chance on you? Was it fair to tell them you weren't taking a chance on them, when they hadn't even asked yet? He was watching me think, and the different expressions filtering over his face gave me hope and took it away all at once. It was crunch time, and if he was really up to this, now was when he was going to show it.

Suddenly he kissed me. Hard. I could do nothing but respond, feeling his hands move to grip under my ass, keeping my body exactly where he needed it to get precisely what he wanted. The heat was almost unbearable, and he sucked on my bottom lip, allowing me to breathe without relinquishing the hold he evidently had on me.

His movements increased, and all I could make out beyond the darkness was stars and obscure shapes, my body giving in to each wave of pleasure, as I gasped at the last vestiges of coherent thought. It wasn't long until I was coming undone, shaking and whimpering and calling out to a God I no longer believed in. He let me ride out the wave, pressing kisses to my face and smoothing the tendrils of hair stuck to my cheek back as he watched. Stared. He always stared.

He kissed me again, slower this time, without the aggression, and my heart jerked uncomfortably – he didn't understand, and I was going to have to stop this before we both fucked everything up.

"Paul you're still not-"

"I got it. This is it, you and I destined to fuck each other's brains out for as long as it's fun. I know."

"Then why are you... that's not what I," I grunted, wondering why it was so fucking hard to string a sentence together around him.

"You get to call the shots, okay? I'm just along for the ride, and we'll see where this takes us."

I peered at him through the darkness, wondering if it really would be alright, if he really was cold and emotionless enough inside to be able to do this and not get hurt. The way he was looking at me screamed otherwise. For some reason, I wanted to find out.

"Fine," I said in defiance, feeling an instant pull of regret after the fact.

Hi lips pulled up on one side again, and he drew a possessive hand up over my flank, along the curve of my breast and to the back of my head, where he leaned in, promising a kiss, teasing a secret he'd only ever tell me.

"Fine. You can have me like this. Just don't get all_ pissed_ when you fall in love with me."


	2. I'll Be Yours To Keep

_Disclaimer:_ _All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise._ _No copyright infringement is intended_

**Suggested Listening: 'Empty Corridors', 'Only Love' and 'Keep Your Head Up' by Ben Howard, 'Letter To Emily' and 'Paul' by The Smoking Popes, 'Bright Lights' by The Narrative**

**A/N: This takes place during the last portion of Chapter 29, after Bella and Embry left Leah's.**

* * *

**Out-Take Two: I'll Be Yours To Keep **

**(A Wind In The Shadow, A Whale Song In The Deep)**

_She's got a little house in town_

_I sometimes go around there_

_To see her_

_And she lets me deep inside_

_I sing her love songs_

_But she'll turn them blind_

_Like she ain't the sentimental type_

_I keep my heart in my pocket and I hold_

_I hold it tight_

_- Empty Corridors by Ben Howard_

She was doing that thing again where she was looking at me like I was insane and an asshole, but she liked it anyway. I could get used to that.

"Why not?"

"Just... not now. Not _tonight_, okay?" she said, dropping her tone on that word like it disgusted her.

"_Especially_ tonight."

A sigh. "Paul..."

"_Leah.._" I cocked my head to the left, mirroring her. She couldn't keep up the brick wall whenever I called her out on the I'm-so-past-caring-about-this routine. Anyone who really gave a shit could see. Anyone who really _cared _could see.

She shook her head.

I wasn't used to hearing 'no'. I never really had, until her. I guess a lot of things changed when it came to this. Call it some kind of romantic, poetic bullshit. Call it having two brain cells to rub together - which I do, I'm not just a walking hard-on, despite the popular opinion - but she needed me tonight. And I actually gave a fuck enough to do something, to actually _try_ to make it better and think of someone else for a change. How about that?

Sure, the smile was well-practiced and the venom didn't quite sting like it used to, but despite the facade, she wasn't made of stone. You try watching someone you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with giving the goo-goo eyes to someone who isn't you. It hadn't even been a year. Nobody gets over that easily.

I held out my hand. "Take a walk with me."

"I don't feel like it."

"It wasn't a request."

There it was. That spark of fire glowing behind her eyes for a second. Her jaw hardened. Why did that turn me on so much?

"I'm sorry, I missed the part where you get to order me around like it's the fucking nineteenth century."

"You also seem to have forgotten how to let people take care of you."

"I don't need to be taken care of, but thanks for the pity party. It's been sweet," she said, stepping back from the window. So it was midnight and I was standing in Sue Clearwater's rose bushes, she didn't get to look at me like _this _ was crazy. Everything about what we'd been doing was crazy, so I don't know why she was suddenly realising things now.

I leaned in the window, resting my forearms on the ledge and watched as she perched on the end of the bed and unzipped her boots.

"You can't bullshit me."

She turned and glared. "Good to know. You can go home and jerk off now."

"It's a lot more fun if you watch," I replied.

Her eyebrow rose and she gave me a withering look, but my eyesight was good enough to see the smirk twitching her lips.

"Dick."

A contented growl rumbled in my chest, and I closed my eyes. "Mmm, I love your dirty mouth."

She snorted softly, staring at her hands on her lap. "Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but... I think I should be alone tonight."

"I don't. It's just another difference of opinion, I guess."

"We seem to have a lot of those."

"And you usually win."

Her expression broke into a full smile. "I can't help being right."

"So humour me. Maybe you can be a raving bitch all night and I'll agree with you. Won't know until we find out," I said, raising my eyebrows encouragingly.

She stood up with a sigh, crossing the short distance to the window again. I looked up at her, studying her face, feeling too close to her lips to not do something. She stared back, debating my offer.

"I'm not gonna start crying on your shoulder, you know. I already had Feelings Hour with my mom. She was waiting at the kitchen table when I came in with a cup of hot chocolate."

"Hope not. This is the only nice shirt I have left."

She dropped her eyes and laughed, before looking up at me again through her lashes. Fuck me, she was beautiful when she was unguarded like this. It still kind of floored me every time I saw it. After a chew on her lip, she let out a breath.

"Alright, but just because I'm not gonna be sleeping anyway."

I stepped back and held out my hand again, but she frowned at it.

"Perfectly capable of climbing out a window by myself, thanks."

"When you look like _that_, it kinda makes me want to treat you like a lady," I said, roving my eyes over her. I'd been dying to get my hands on that dress since she showed up at Sam's. She shook her head and smirked, but to my surprise, her hand slipped into mine. It was sort of nice that she didn't feel cold, like all the others. We matched.

Her step onto the ledge was delicate. Watching her, it baffled me that she could still agonise over feeling feminine and soft. Everything she did was graceful, like her body was trained for ballet or something. She moved like the world was built around her.

I grasped her waist and lifted, pulling her towards me and down my body slowly, savoring the silk over my clothes. Her eyes melded to mine the whole time, a strange curiosity in them. I just held her against me, her bare feet not meeting the ground, and stared up at her.

Her hands, rested on my shoulders and I said, "I could take you away somewhere, you know. For good if you want."

An agonised frown formed on her features, her eyes watching my mouth and her fingers flickered over the material of my shirt.

"I don't think I should have to be the one to leave." She met my eyes again. "Just take me somewhere right _now._"

That was all I needed. Reaching down, I weaved a hand under her knees and pulled up, until she was sideways against my body. She let out a small shriek and covered her mouth in surprise, looking up at me as I began to run.

"You don't need to carry me, you know!" She was trying to glare, some deep-seated feminist crap, but there was light in her eyes. It hadn't been there all day.

"Well, since it was your bright idea not to bother putting on some damn shoes, I get to pretend I'm a gentleman." I knew I didn't have to. It was hard to remember the last time any of us had worn a pair for a whole day, but holding her felt right. I guess I'd caught 'sentimentality'' off of Embry or something. That kid was lost.

She scoffed. "Oh please, that's a fucking stretch."

"Try not to offend the guy holding you off the ground," I said shortly.

"Aw, did I hurt your feelings?"

"Come on, you pranced around the party looking like someone's wet dream and I didn't so much as get a grope in. That's a goddamn gentleman."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh Jesus, give the guy a medal."

"I'd prefer a blow-job."

"There's the Paul we all know and loathe," she sighed, throwing up her free hand in my direction. She wiggled a little in my grasp. "Come on, you can put me down."

"We're almost there."

She turned her head, looking around the surrounding trees as I slowed to a walk. "Where the hell are you taking me?"

"I'm trying to be romantic and shit. Stop ruining the moment."

"Jesus, you are such a woman."

I smirked. "Well, you got enough _balls _for the two of us." I came to a stop as I reached the ridge, setting her down on the ground as the sound of waves breaking and the scent of the ocean surrounded us, washing away the familiarity of the Rez. "We're here."

She was silent as she turned forward, stepping towards the cliff-edge and looking up at the full moon and the thousands of stars that seemed to stretch on forever. She took a deep breath as the breeze blew her hair back, the tension falling away.

"I love it up here."

"I know." She turned to look at me, a recognition of the last time we were here passing between us.

The waves were loud, but I still heard the grunt she let out as she began to walk along the edge. "I'm supposed to be okay with it by now. That was the plan."

"You kinda have impossible standards for yourself. If it was me I'd probably still be breaking trees in half so I didn't snap necks." I toed off my shoes and unbuttoned the top my shirt more. Everything felt constricting now, like our bodies weren't made to be covered and shielded from the air.

Her jaw clenched and she shook her head. "It's not that he dumped me. I can deal with that."

"What is it then?"

"It's fucked up."

"You're talking to someone who _knows _ fucked up."

"No, I mean...the situation's fucked up. Why did I get this-" she gestured to her body, to the perfect lines and athletic tone, "And not that?" Her hand zipped out in the direction of the Rez, towards Emily, living the life she'd lost. "Who the hell decided that I was better suited to being a soldier than a regular girl?"

Her jaw lifted and she looked to the sky, like a voice was going to come down and explain everything. "I'm not Susie Homemaker, I get that. That was never going to be me. But for him? Yeah, maybe I could have settled down."

"You'd rather be home playing the good-little-wifey than out kicking ass with the rest of us?" I said disbelievingly. I knew she couldn't mean it. The girl would probably bust a hole through a wall rather than sit at home wondering if her little brother was alright.

"...No. But at least if I did, my Dad would still be alive." She sounded so fucking broken that I took a step towards her. She held up her hands and stepped back. "No, I'm not playing the sympathy card, stop looking at me like that and just let me talk."

I held up my own hands in apology and stepped back again.

"You all just see me as this..." she sighed, starting again. "It's like... I know why this all happened - and I'm past blaming Swan for it all. At one point I really resented her... but she's the only one who _gets _what's happened. She's the only one who can actually listen to me bitch and not look at me like she pities my whole existence."

"You kinda make it hard for anyone to pity you," I smirked.

"I've been in the Pack mind too, remember? I know what they all think. Ever since Jacob imprinted it's like I get all his misplaced guilt. It's fucking ridiculous. "

I knew that much was true. The Baby Alpha had been treating her like she would break because it seemed to ease his conscience for fucking over the 'love of his life'. I wondered how that guilt would hold up when he found out Snow White was healing her broken heart with his best friend's dick.

She was still talking but she stood in place, her bare toes digging into the dirt as she watched the sea. This was messed up... it wasn't _her. _She was so much stronger than this and seeing her in these moments made me hate everything.

"God, sometimes I just feel like _screaming._ Or messing something up. Doing something completely and utterly stupid. Something other than _this._" She shrugged helplessly.

I narrowed my eyes, hardening my jaw against the clench of protective frustration in my gut. My girl shouldn't be going through this. I had no quick fixes, and I kind of sucked with words, but actions, I could do.

"We can do that," I said, taking a step back, planting my feet apart and lowering to a crouch. She turned to eye me curiously.

"What are-" her stare widened as I took a menacing step forward. "Paul..."

I started towards her, the panic in her eyes making a dark chuckle escape my lips, but she stood her ground. A defiant crease formed between her eyebrows and she held up a warning finger.

"Paul! Fuck off! No!"

I broke into a jog, knowing that I needed to propel myself or she'd match my strength. She was good at that.

"I swear to god, if you-"

She threw out her hands in a block, but her delayed reaction sealed the deal. Reaching the end of the cliff, I grabbed around her middle, pulling her along in my momentum and we both tumbled over the edge. She screamed and dug her hands into my shoulders as she buried her face in my chest. The free-fall seemed to last whole minutes before her voice was cut out by the icy depths.

We broke apart under the swell, both effortlessly reaching the surface, and she punched me, hard, in the shoulder.

"You asshole! I'm going to murder you!"

I smiled darkly at her and started to swim towards land without retorting, her anger at me making her give chase until we reached the rocks.

I shook the water from my hair and laughed, enjoying the sight of her hair plastered to her face and mascara pooling underneath her eyes. She slicked her hair back, looking like a fucking Bond girl and gave out a frustrated grunt.

"How do you feel?" I said, pulling myself up on one of the slick, flat stones..

"Fucking livid! You owe me a ninety-dollar dress!" she barked, wringing out the silk for a second before giving up and sinking to her knees in front of me.

I threw my head back and laughed again. "Good!"

She landed another punch on my arm. It was starting to go dead. "Not 'good', Asswipe. What the hell did you do that for?"

"I'd rather you mad at me than feeling sorry for yourself," I replied with confidence, looking her dead in the eye. "It's a little more _you._"

She looked back at me for a long moment, the only movement being the heaving in her chest as she powered through the blind rage behind her eyes, and then she lunged at me.

Her lips crashed onto my own with the force of a steam train, tongue pushing into my mouth and teasing mine so expertly that it made my abs stiffen and my hands grip her tiny waist. We both rolled off the rock, not caring about anything but the feel of each other.

She pulled back from her place on top of me and studied me again. "I guess I did say I wanted to do something stupid."

"I'm something stupid," I replied, and she shook her head, scoffing at me as she sat back on her heels.

"Jesus, you're like a frat-boy on crack," she laughed, rising to her feet and starting to walk off. I jumped up in a single movement and followed her. She balanced on the rocks along the shore, watching her feet as she went. Her steps were lighter, and I knew the objective had been achieved.

We said nothing for a while until I looked beyond, recognising we'd reached the entrance to a small cave in the face of the cliff. I dipped my head as we entered, eyes adjusting pretty quickly to the darkness. There was a blanket balled up in a space the water didn't reach, and I realised she'd been here before. There was faint traces of her scent and the remains of a small fire was piled beside it.

"Sleeping rough?" I asked, cutting into the silence. She was paddling in the shallow water, looking out the entrance at the moonlight. She turned, looking at me where I'd flopped down on the blanket.

"Spent some time here when being in the 'Dead Elder's House' became too much. It was crawling with people for a week, and I was phasing... and this place was empty. My dad showed it to me."

I looked around, noticing for the first time that her initials were scratched into the wall near me. I traced it with my hand - it felt like it had been there for years. I wondered what it was like to be so loved. My mom split before I could barely spell my own name, and there were no sweet memories of growing up with a drunk.

"Your 'place'?" I asked, realising I was probably the only person in the world she'd told about it.

She nodded, coming over to sit beside me on the blanket. Our clothes had pretty much dried with the wind and the heat of our skin, but she still leaned into my chest, like she needed the warmth. She couldn't see the pride in my face when I got to wrap my arms around her - I was needed.

There was just the lapping of the water and the sound of the wind and waves in the distance, and she sat silently, falling back into her thoughts.

"I'm not in that place anymore where it's about Him and Her. I'm just sick of feeling like I don't deserve to be fucking happy for once," she said aloud, breaking the silence.

"That's bullshit. Everyone deserves to be happy," I cut in, getting frustrated that she seemed to think that way. I'd spent plenty of time going over what it was I didn't seem to deserve - a real home, a proper family - but I'd come to the conclusion a long time ago that I can't blame myself for other people's fuck-ups. As long as I fought hard enough, or acted brave enough, I could make it happen for myself. No point in waiting round for life to hand you happiness on a silver fucking platter.

"Then why can't I?"

"I thought you were getting there," I accused. She made me happy, and I wasn't done fighting for this. I _knew _she was starting to feel something for me.

She turned and shook her head, narrowing her eyes at me like I'd broken a promise. "This isn't about us, and this-" she gestured between us, "isn't what that's about. I told you from the start that we're not going there."

I clenched my jaw, pushing down the argument and the flare of rage beginning in my gut because she was here, laying in my arms and telling me we were nothing.

"Sure."

She gave a frustrated sigh and pulled back to look at me. "Don't one-word-answer me. Did I or did I not lay it all out for you from day one?" I looked away from her and nodded curtly. She sighed. "Good. 'Cause you need to tell me, right now, if that's changed."

I met her gaze, looking into those dark eyes, and I lied. "It hasn't. We're just screwing around. For fun. That's it." Bile rose up my throat as I said it, like my own fucking body was protesting such a huge distortion of the facts. She gave a small nod and turned away once again..

"I'm sorry, I know I said I wasn't going to get all hormonal about this."

"Do you hear me complaining?"

She turned back. "No. I guess you're a bigger idiot than I am for listening to this crap." Her smile was sarcastic, but I wondered if there was something honest in there. Maybe I was an idiot. A dumb shit for actually thinking she'd ever admit what was really going on with us.

"I told _you_ from day one, I got your back."

She leaned into me again, her head resting on my shoulder and a soft smile graced her lips as I wrapped a protective arm around her. "Yeah, you do."

Closing her eyes, she turned her head, and I swear I heard her breathe in my scent for a split second. When her lids opened again, she looked at me with this expression I couldn't quite figure out. She looked like she was sorry, like she'd betrayed herself, or that she'd realised something she was starting to regret.

"Do you mind if we just stay here for a while?" Her voice was kind of detached and stiff; It was resigned and final.

I shook my head. "Whatever you want."

"Cool."

We didn't say anything after that. At some point, maybe a half-hour later, I fell asleep. I wouldn't admit it to the guys even if I could, but the feeling of her small weight in my arms as the darkness came is one of the single best memories in my fuck-up of a life. Countless time's we'd collapsed bonelessly on top of each other in the exhaustion of sex, catching our breath before it was time to go our separate ways. Never had we fallen asleep together. Not once had I held her scent in my lungs as I drifted off, and everything in the world felt right.

It obviously wasn't the same for Leah, though.

When I woke up in the first light of the morning, she was gone.


End file.
